


Close To Me

by Ithinkwehaveanemergency



Category: All American (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-08-20 20:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16562684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithinkwehaveanemergency/pseuds/Ithinkwehaveanemergency
Summary: Olivia Baker and her brother Jordan are forced from their Crenshaw home after a tragic incident.  They are taken in by their father's old college friend and are thrust into the upper class community of Beverly Hills.While Jordan seems to fit in alright at Beverly Hills High School, Olivia plans to try and keep her head down until graduation.Football Captain Asher Adams unintentionally derails that plan.





	1. Both Know We're Liars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [manonlemelon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manonlemelon/gifts).



> Titles from the Ellie Goulding song, _Close To Me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from _Love and War_ by Dilated Peoples

_“For the love of cats scrambling to beat the odds, hustling and ducking in between the laws..._ _  
_ _For the love of my family, the streets are ours.  For DJs ripping these beats apart….”_

 

Olivia’s headphones block out the noise of the crowded hallway as she waits for her brother.  She stares blankly at the sign on the principal’s door.

 

It's wood.

 

Solid, finished, beautiful wood.  No paint. Just high quality wood and glass.  There are no scratches, no wear, no dirt, no posters advertising an open mic at that dirty cafe down on La Brea.  No one has broken in during the night and tagged “ _SUR13_ ” or “ _X3_ ” across the wall.  No bright red, sloppily dripping spray paint spelling out “ _Tree Top_ ” or “ _RXXS_ ” on top of it.

 

The only lines etched into the door are on the fancy gold nameplate: Principal Ed Landon.

 

She looks up as a body drops into the chair next to hers with more stature and grace than any one under the age of 20 should reasonably have.

 

The girl is definitely around Olivia's age.  She has perfectly straight brown hair and equally dark golden-bronzed skin.  She turns toward Olivia, and her face is as flawless as the rest of her, not a blemish in sight, and more mascara than eyeliner, leaving her looks fresh, yet formal.  Her strappy stiletto heels have a horsebit on them and Olivia has seen enough young, bougie girls in the hood wearing knockoffs to know what it means. The girl has a vacant smile as she politely looks away and focuses on her own phone.

 

She looks like a goddess.  Like something you see in HBO and Netflix shows.

 

Olivia has to fight not to zip up her hoodie even further and pocket her callused, unmanicured hands.  She has never had a problem with her looks. Olivia knows she's blessed with good skin, big eyes, a nice smile… But this place isn't just about natural beauty.

 

The girl turns to her again, smile more genuine, hesitant even.  There's an interest in her eyes and a curious twist to her brow. Olivia pulls the thumping beat of Dilated Peoples from her ears, but she doesn't get to hear what the girl was preparing to say.

 

“Layla!  Perfect timing.”  The principal coos fondly at the girl next to Olivia and approaches them both, shutting his office door behind him.  He holds his hand out to Olivia. Both girls stand and Olivia shakes his offered hand with a tight smile. “Olivia, nice to see you again.  This is our ASB Vice President, Layla. She is in a few of your classes and I've asked her to show you around before class. Your brother, as you know, is with Spencer.  They're in a meeting after practice, getting the uh… paperwork settled for his eligibility.”

 

“That's alright, I don't want to be a-”

 

“Olivia, he won't take no for an answer.”  Layla cuts her off and smiles at her, the kind, apologetic smile again.  “I will make it painless, and make sure to only show you what you need. This school was designed by someone who _wanted_ students to get lost, so a quick walkthrough is totally advised.  I'm not taking you down to 4H or the baseball field, I promise. Just the basics.”

 

Olivia gapes at the girl, whose words are even more gorgeous and smooth than her appearance, if that's possible.  She's always wanted the honeyed, sultry lilt that this young woman has perfected, instead of her own raspy, contralto voice.

 

In the end, Olivia swallows and nods.

 

“You're in fine hands, Olivia.”  The principal nods at her and hands over a welcome packet with the school crest on the front, pressed in gold foil.  “I hope you two have a nice start to your year.”

 

*****

 

“And finally, here is the theater.”  Layla whips her head around. Her body follows and suddenly she's walking backwards down a slope in precarious heels, facing Olivia while talking animatedly with her gaudy-ring adorned hands.  “So I've noticed you have no art electives on you schedule, but that probably just means you're encumbered by the basic elective demands of this strenuous course requirement that the Bev has. But I can't see you staying happy that way, and we should have to speak to guidance immediately.  So here, my musically gifted friend, is the Mecca of all the performance arts.”

 

Olivia stops dead in her tracks and allows Layla to falter, impossibly gracefully, before doing the same in hers.

 

“How did you know I was a musician?”  Olivia asks, staring critically at her supermodel tour guide.  She's grown surprisingly fond of the ethereal creature who has taken her under-wing, but the unwarranted familiarity sends minor alarms off with Olivia's deep-set instincts.

 

“Oh uh…”  Layla steps toward her twice, grabbing her hands with an apologetic frown.  “Sorry that was intrusive, but I learned to spot what kind of music that aspiring musicians listened to.  My ex used to… well, more _importantly_ , my father is a famous music producer.  Worked with Sam Sneed back in the day. _Ice Cube._  Lots of guys.  Kind of a big deal.  I basically grew up around up and coming musicians.  I know which ones are the good ones.”

 

Layla lets go of Olivia's hands and smiles.

 

“I knew the second I heard you blasting that Evidence.  You're gonna go deaf listening that loud, sis.”

 

She taps at her earlobe and winks before turning and walking to down a long concrete ramp.  Olivia stares, a little baffled about how much she’s thrown by this girl already.

 

“You like hip hop?  You like Dilated Peoples?”  Olivia jogs to catch up, holding her backpack straps as she descends to the cleanly paved asphalt road Layla has paused to wait for her on.

 

“I do.”  Layla nods.  “But I like all music.  It took me a while to figure it out, but I think I want to be a music journalist.  I knew that writing was my calling, but I feel like this would be a good way to stay close to the family business.”

 

“Amazing that you have an opportunity like that.”  Olivia feels a familiar, invisible class boundary rise up between them, and she knows there's a tight quickness to her words that had been absent all morning.  She looks down at her shoes as she says it, then forces a smile when she meets Layla's eyes again.

 

Layla furrows her brow and smiles back, unsure.

 

“Listen, Olivia?”  Layla looks around at the large open plan campus and Olivia follows her gaze.  Before her attention is called back by Layla's dainty hand landing on hers again.  The girl gives her a knowing look. “I know this is a bit much. Beverly? It's not exactly welcoming.  But make no mistake… this place will open the same doors for you as all the other fake nosed, extension wearing girls you'll walk to the halls with.  This is going to be a good education. And the recommendations that come from these teachers are worth a lot. This place might not be where you wanted to be, but you can get something out of this.  Something you didn't have access to before. This place can be a gift.”

 

Olivia arches an eyebrow and starts to respond, but a yell from a few yards away cuts her off.

 

“Liv!”  Jordan's voice finds her ears.  She and Layla look behind themselves to see a group of guys who look freshly showered and remarkably groomed for their age coming from what must be the locker room.  Three of them walk in the their direction, while the others wave goodbye and go their own direction.

 

“That's your brother?”  Layla hisses with a grin.  “He is _cute_.  Y’all got some good genes.”

 

“Yeah, he's been kind of a player in the past year, so I wouldn't.”

 

“Don't worry.”  Layla scoffs. “He's not my type.  I've sworn off football players forever.  And musicians. So you gorgeous siblings are both safe from my irresistible advances.”

 

Layla winks at her again playfully before turning to the approaching football players with a winning smile.

 

“Spencer!  Do introduce me to your newest recruit.”  Layla leans in and hugs the young man that Olivia and her brother have been living with for the past week.  Olivia notices that the third, much shorter boy with light brown hair greets Layla a quick, tight, but not-unkind smile before turning his attention to his watch.

 

“Jordan, this is Layla.  Layla, this is Olivia's brother, Jordan.”  Spencer humors the beautiful girl theatrically and she rolls her eyes good maturely before shaking Jordan's hand.

 

“So nice to meet you, Jordan.  If you're anything like your sister, here, we'll get along great.”

 

“Oh, he's not.”  Olivia snorts out then covers her mouth in surprise at her own boldness.  She winces and looks up at Jordan who's just watching the exchange, entertained.  “No, I mean, like… I just meant we are total opposites. Jordan’s a good kid.”

 

“That mean you aren't?”  The nameless kid looks up from his phone as if noticing Olivia for the first time.  He looks her up and down even as Layla swats his muscular arm and clicks her tongue at him disapprovingly.

 

“Be nice, Asher.”  Layla scolds. “Olivia, this is Asher Adams.  I think you two will have more in common than anyone here.  He’s super-”

 

“Doubt it.”  Asher interrupts her with a frown and looks back down at his phone.

 

Olivia arches an eyebrow at Spencer, who had done nothing but talk about how nice his friends are since Jordan and she moved in.

 

“Sorry about him, he's in pain from getting his ass beat at morning practice.”  Spencer apologizes and earns a hard stare from his friend who simply walks away toward the nearest building just before the bell rings.

 

“So…”  Layla coos, handing Olivia a schedule.  “Your first two classes are the reverse of the rest of ours, but they're just down the hall, so we'll walk you.”

 

Olivia nods and follows Spencer and Layla toward the same building Asher had walked toward.

 

Jordan falls in step next to her and knocks his elbow into hers.

 

“Made a friend already?”  Jordan asks.

 

“I'm sure Spencer told her to look out for me.  They seem close.”

 

“Apparently Layla and Asher just broke up a few days ago.  I think that's why he was a jerk just now.” Jordan shrugs, lowering his voice.  “This morning, one of the underclassmen made some jab about letting everyone else have a taste after hogging her for the past two years, and they got in a pretty gnarly fight in the locker room.  I'm sure it's just made him testy. He hasn't ever been rude before when-”

 

“Jordan.”  Olivia interrupts him just before they catch up to the others.  She gives him a hard look. “I'm not really looking to make friends.  I don't anyone would want to be friends with me if they knew why we moved here.”

 

Olivia walks into the class Layla is pointing out to her before Jordan can say anything back.  Her brother is her best friend. At the moment, he feels like her only friend.

 

The classroom is completely filled with laughter.  Kids are sitting in their seats instead of on their desks.  Half the girls are busy texting on their phones, legs crossed primly.  One group of kids is listening to a short asian girl tell a loud, clearly entertaining story.

 

Olivia locates the only open seat in the middle of the back row.  As she walks down the aisle, she notices it's directly behind a familiar head of light brown hair.

 

Asher's eyes flit up to meet hers and he frowns before looking straight ahead, putting in a pair of wireless earbuds and throwing up the hood on his fitted BHHS Football sweater.

 

“Oh yeah.  This place is a gift alright.”  Olivia mutters to herself as she takes her seat before the late bell and puts her headphones back in.

 

 _“If it ain't family, I ain't sure.  Love is love, war is war._ _  
_ _They want theirs, they want yours, I got lots of love for my crew that is..”_

  



	2. Start Eachothers Fires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced in the chapter is _Sound and Color_ by Alabama Shakes

The first few days at Beverly Hills High School pass without incident.

 

Olivia has two of her classes with Jordan, which helps.  She and her brother had grown apart in the past couple years, but then they fell into a new type of closeness again in the past month that only siblings who've shared the loss which they have could.

 

She has three of the other four classes with Asher.  The most shocking of which is the class she enrolled into late, on Layla's recommendation.  Music Theory. But he's a teacher's aide and all he does during class is sit in the teacher’s office.  Olivia sits with Layla and tries to pay attention to the surprising in-depth music course.

 

Olivia has never had a friend like Layla.

 

Layla is overwhelming at times.  She is controlling and pushy, but all of it comes from a place of generosity and caring.  But as hard as it is, it's exactly what she needs to take her mind off the mess that is her life.

 

Olivia has never had anyone in her life like Asher, either.

 

Asher is constantly drifting around in the corner of her mind, and despite trying to convince herself that he's just a stereotypical, uninteresting, asshat teenage boy, she finds herself spending to much time trying to figure him out.

 

According to the teacher, Asher has taken the Music Theory class before and is to be used as a resource when any of the students have issues with the coursework.  But based on their previous encounters, Olivia highly doubts it would go well if she sought out his aide.

 

And he leaves early most days anyway.  Benefit of being the school's football co-captain, she supposes.

 

Olivia packs her bags up at the end of music class on Friday, relieved she only has lunch and one more class to go before the week is over and she can just relax.  She looks around for Layla and spots her classmate standing in front of Asher. Asher's expression is worse than the typical irritated scowl she's become accustomed to.

 

Not that she watches him often.

 

He's staring over Layla's shoulder with a pained, anxious expression as the beautiful girl in front of his whispers something harsh and urgent.  His eyes drift to Olivia's for a split second and the familiar scowl returns.

 

Asher turns his attention back to Layla, snapping out a low response to the girl's lecture and then storming off out the door without another glance in Olivia's direction.

 

“What was that?”  Olivia gently nudges Layla with an elbow.

 

Layla looks up with a kind smile, all the stress from her encounter with Asher instantly drains away, like it was never there.

 

“Nothing.  We still on for coffee and dinner tonight?  I'm really excited.”

 

“Yeah, but why are we going so far on a school night?”  Olivia laughs and shakes her head at the girl’s infallible enthusiasm.  “Isn't that Urth place that everyone goes to just down the street?”

 

“Olivia.”  Layla sighs and leads the way to Olivia's next class, a habit for them already, since Olivia insists on spending lunch right outside her 6th period, catching up on classwork or reading.  “You're gonna be stuck going to Urth or Verve for every group project meeting you do this year. You need some distance between where you work and where you relax.”

 

Olivia laughs at the absurdity of the fact that her life has led her to where she's going to regularly spend time at little hipster vegan organic cafes.

 

Layla side eyes her with a smirk, as if she knows just what Olivia is thinking.

 

“Also, Cafe Cahuenga is my favorite little dive.  It stays super locals-only because a few of the waiters are pretentious dicks and the Yelp reviews are tanked for it.”

 

“Oh good.”  Olivia laughs again, louder this time.

 

“Trust me.”  Layla nudges her, accompanied by her own soft laugh.  She starts backing away toward the parking lot. “I'll meet you in the music room at like 4ish and we'll go?  I'll try and get there faster if I can, my student council meeting shouldn’t be long. In the meantime, you can work on your transcribing.”

 

Olivia gives her a twisted grimace-smile and a thumbs up, and the tall, beautiful teen throws her head back in a delighted cackle before turning back around and walking away to have lunch at home.

 

*****

 

The music room is empty when Olivia makes her way there during period.  The small classroom is adjacent to the choir room, which she didn't realize would be empty as well.  The large double doors separating the two have mostly been closed during classes, but all the doors in both classrooms are wide open, allowing her a view of a beautiful baby grand piano.

 

The faint clink of metal bats hitting machine-spun baseballs echoes all the way from the field in through the side door,  resonating clearly in the high-ceilinged room.

 

Olivia looks around both rooms and checks her watch.

 

She drops her backpack on the nearest open chair and steps toward the piano.

 

She sits on the bench, her sneaker-clad foot pressing experimentally on the damper pedals.  A smile spreads across her face at the faint sound of soft hammers pushing flush against the strings and lifting off again.  She presses down on a single key, letting the rich fullness of the note bounce against the walls of the room.

 

She holds in a squeal as she plays a full chord with one hand and her ears are filled with a vibration that sent endorphins running rampant through her bloodstream.  The sound is one she can feel in her bones, un-matched by the decade old Yamaha keyboard she calls her own.

 

She starts playing slowly, instinctively, not having had much time since the _incident_ to do so.  Her ratty, beloved, temperamental, electric synth is still packed away in Spencer’s garage along with the gym equipment they'd moved out of the room current lives in.

 

Olivia let's the notes fall into the familiar tune of one of the first songs she'd ever sounded out on her synth.  She'd spent hours one night, a couple years back, making up a bass line to take the place of the drum beat in the popular song.

 

Her mom hadn't complained at all.

 

Hadn't interrupted her more than to set a sandwich on her dresser and leave the room again with a wink.

 

On the foreign instrument, it sounds less like the alt rock song that starts one of her favorite albums and more like the intro to a bluesy ballad.  She embellishes freely, enjoying herself in a way that she'd all but forgotten in the past couple months of pain and guilt and anger.

 

She doesn't notice she's not alone until a voice startles her.

 

“Great song.”

 

Olivia looks up from her hands and sees her unintended audience is none other than Asher Adams.

 

He’s leaning against the door frame at the side of the choir room and Olivia's stomach flips as she stares at him.

 

Asher is always an incredibly handsome young man.  His hair is always styled perfectly with undoubtedly professional-grade products.  His clothes, even his football sweater, are always clean and perfectly bright, like they've never seen a washing machine or tumble dryer.

 

This Asher is almost irreconcilable to the one she's sat behind in two classes a day for the past three days.  Olivia barely recognizes the typically clenched jawline she finds herself looking at in Marine Bio, where they share a lab table with Layla and Jordan.

 

This Asher looks freshly showered, but ungroomed.  His hair is damp, recently towel-dried, and it sticks up in awkward directions.  He's in snug heather grey sweats and black chucks and Olivia tries not to get too distracted by his half exposed chest.  He's wearing a zip up hoodie that looks well worn, the black color almost washed out to a grey, and its such an uncharacteristic look that she wonders for a split second if Asher has a brother she's never heard about before.

 

“I really like what you did with that song.  You're really talented. Sick how much you made out of a few little notes on a xylophone.”  Asher stands up straighter, bag shifting on his shoulder, but he doesn't step into the room.  He's not smiling, but he looks excited and Olivia blushes under his praise. “I didn't know you played.  Mr. Elg’s class should be a breeze for you then. It's a shame you don't have time to join his composition class too.”

 

“I, uh…” Olivia rasps out before swallowing and giving him a half smile.  “I don't know how to read music, actually. I've tried to teach myself, but I never had a computer at home and so having instruction at the same place as an instrument… I just… I didn't have a ton to go on.”

 

Asher is looking at her with an unreadable expression, brow drawn together in thought, so Olivia rambles on to fill the silence.

 

“I wanted to learn when I was younger, I did, but...  Jordan's best friend, Coop… She used to read gospel music for the church choir.  She showed me a few things. Nothing major. Woulda asked her moms for some lessons, y'know, but that bitch… she...  It's a long story.” She laughs, loud and bitter as she thinks of Mrs. Cooper. “Couldn’t do much else but teach myself on an old hand-me-down keyboard.  Didn’t have enough money to to be in music classes and Momma didn't really raise us to be church folk.”

 

Olivia becomes aware of her self suddenly and looks up at Asher with big round eyes, taking in the same expression he'd been wearing since she first spoke.  She diverts her shell shocked gaze back toward the keys. She places her fingers on the heavy white wooden blocks, slowly, timidly. Their unfamiliar resistance pushes back as she plays five different notes simultaneously.  It's not a clean, happy, even sound, but it's beautiful. She writes melodies based around the notes often, and mimics popular songs accurately enough to know that it's fairly common.

 

She starts playing another song, partly the Alabama Shakes tune from before, but more just whatever she feels in the moment.  She thinks about how embarrassed she feels for unloading that long-winded answer on a guy who's made it clear that he doesn't want to be her friend, but soon she loses herself in the music again.

 

“That's gorgeous!”  Layla's voice coos in amazement from the door to the music room.  Olivia lifts her head to look, then whips her gaze back toward the door where Asher had been.

 

There's no sign of him.

 

“You're definitely got a hell of an ear girl.”

 

Their teacher, Mr. Elg, walks up behind Layla with a smile on his face.

 

“I agree!”  The small grey-haired man chuckles.  “I look forward to you excelling in my class, dear.”

 

“Thanks, Mr. Elg.”  Olivia ducks her head and stands from the piano, but nods and quirks the corner of her mouth up shyly.  “I do too.”

 

He nods and walks back toward his office in the music room.

 

“You ready?”  Layla bounces in place slightly gesturing to the door.

 

Olivia takes one last glance at where Asher had been before and then follows behind Layla to the opposite entrance.

 

*****

 

“Grab that table in the corner!”  Layla places a hand on Olivia's should and points to a small coffee table next to the patio door.  Olivia sighs in relief as it seems pretty cozy compared to the long open seating tables and the noisy patio.  “What do you want to drink? I'm gonna get my favorite snacks, I know you'll like something I get.”

 

“Something warm?  No sugar?” Olivia shrugs.  She never drinks coffee aside from just the Starbucks bottles from 7-11 or the free cups of burnt coffee at the shady little cafe on La Brea.

 

Layla sends her a finger gun and a wink as she walks toward the register.  Olivia shakes her head at how that girl makes everything look adorable and smooth.  They'd stopped at Spencer's house so that Olivia could change into something more appropriate for dinner and whatever their plans were after, and Layla had completely steamrolled over any concerns his parents had for the two of them going out, and by the tume they'd left the house over an hour later, Layla had been being the couple to join them, saying they deserve a night out more than anyone and that they were _always_ welcome to tag along.  The girl just exudes joy, and Olivia doesnt know what she did to earn the rapt interest of such a clearly beloved member of the community.  Olivia watches Layla flirt harmlessly with the 20-something-year-old girl behind the counter and then grab their order number and a receipt.  Rather than head back to the table, she walks over to the open area at the opposite end of the restaurant, on the Cahuenga side. There's a large curtain and a stool and microphone set up in front of them.  Layla hugs a round, bearded, jolly looking middle-aged man and starts in on a smile-filled conversation.

 

That girl could seriously probably charm a member of the Royal Guard.

 

Olivia turns back to rest her forearms on the table.  Seems reasonable that a hip little cafe like this would have live music.  Probably a struggling folk artist in their mid twenties. Los Angeles is equally as full of them as the wannabe rappers she’s always grown up around.

 

Layla walks back to the table with two full-to-the-brim lattes.

 

“Good old two-shot latte for you, and a lavender honey latte for _meeee_.”

 

“Is that…”  Olivia blinks down at her large mug.  A fluffy white face with tiny ears and long whiskers stares back at her through her espresso.  “Layla, why is there an otter in my latte foam?  How‘m I gonna drink this with its creepy little face looking up at me like that?  Is this considered animal cruelty?  PETA gonna come at me after this?”

 

Olivia looks over both shoulders in a shady fashion.  Layla throws her head back in laughter and fans herself as she loses herself over the her new friend's reaction.

 

Olivia rolls her eyes and takes a tentative sip to prevent herself from joining in.

 

Layla calms down and takes a sip of her own drink.  She grins and starts in on a story about something that happened during her student council meeting.  Olivia looks around the coffee shop, half listening. She nods along, get the gist of the story, but she's more interested in the diverse assortment of people in the establishment.

 

She sees a group of girls out front taking turns getting a picture with a barbie-doll looking young girl that Olivia doesn't even remotely recognize.

 

She sees a busser clearing plates from a table and laughing with the group amicably.

 

Another table houses a group of young asian girls with their school notebooks out, but she figures they're just on Instagram, since they're all huddle over the table looking at one phone and speaking in Korean.

 

There's one pair, sitting next to them that makes Olivia's heart hurt a bit.  A woman, about 45 or so, chatting away happily at her daughter, a college aged woman who is looking down at her phone, swiping thrpugh pictures and sipping her iced coffee through a straw.

 

“‘Liv, you okay?”

 

Layla turns forward and shakes her head, apologizing.

 

“I'm so sorry, I spaced out on you for a sec.  I'm just tired and hungry. I'm so so sorry.” Olivia clears her throat and forces a smile.

 

“It's okay.”  Layla tilts her head sympathetically.  “You just made this pained face for a second.  The food should be coming any second, but we can go if you aren't feeling well.  Or, well, I could call you a Lyft? I told…”

 

“Good evening everyone!”  A gravelly voice echoes out of the speakers at the front of restaurant.  Olivia twists in her chair to face him and freezes when she sees the guitar-equipped person sitting on the stool next to the friendly looking man that Layla had been talking to earlier.  The man claps a hand on the musician’s shoulder

 

“Just wanted to introduce, for the last time in a long while…” The man pauses for a few chorused ‘aww's from the crowd.  “One of the nicest young men we've ever had perform here, not to mention a boost in our sales since his handsome mug keeps the young'ns coming every Friday night.”

 

The crowd, especially Layla, cheers and whistles at the anecdote.

 

“Folks, give a round of applause for Ash!  Thanks for hanging around the past few months.  We'll miss you bud. Come back soon.”

 

Olivia acknowledges the rest of the people in the room cheering as the mic is put back on the stand and adjusted to the right height, but she can't do anything but stare at the familiar green eyes that are locked onto hers from across the large shop.

 

The same unreadable expression from earlier, the one she hadn't been able to stop picturing for the past couple hours, falls across the face of none other but Asher Adams.

 

But then he clears his throat, smiles at the rest of the crowd, looks down at his hands, and starts strumming.


	3. We Just Know that We'll Be Alright.

_ “These feelings won't go away _ __   
_ They've been knockin' me sideways _ __   
_ I keep thinking in a moment that _ _   
_ __ Time will take them away”

 

Olivia tears her eyes away from Asher to look around the room.

 

With the exception of a few moderately low conversations, the majority of the shop's focus is on the Varsity football captain at the front of the room.  Some of the Korean girls had their phones out to likely Snapchat their early evening activities watching live music at a fashionable little coffee shop. Even the mother and daughter she'd seen having an awkward dinner together were now leaning in and whispering to each other while watching Asher perform.

 

Olivia turns to Layla with a unspoken, rhetorical question of whether this was the reason they were here.

 

Layla smirks and leans across the small table.

 

“He's amazing, isn't he?”

 

Olivia doesn't answer.

 

Asher is something, alright.  Olivia isn't sure what that something is.  She wants to call him a liar, a phony, fake… anything nasty to counteract the flutter his voice puts in her chest.  But the way his vocal chords strain over notes he hits easily makes Olivia shiver with excitement.

 

She won't tell Layla, though, or anyone else for that matter.

 

The song comes to an end and applause fills the room as their food arrives.

 

“Thanks, Jenny.”  Layla greets the middle aged Latina woman, clad in chef's whites, warmly, almost the familiarity of family.

 

“Anything for you sweetie.”  Jenny hugs Layla and looks to Olivia, who smiles back politely.  “Who's your friend?”

 

“I'm Olivia.  I just started school with Layla.”  Olivia holds her hand out but the woman let's out a huff and goes in for a hug.

 

“Well it's rare that Layla brings anyone with her, so you must be a good friend.  Any friend of Layla's is a friend of ours.” Jenny pats them both on the shoulder and walks back to the tiny kitchen.

 

“Jenny and Ron, the man who introduced Asher?  They own Solar de Cahuenga.” Layla explains. She fiddles with a ring on her middle finger anxiously, but she's still smiling fondly.  “My dad helped them out a few years back with a fundraiser to keep the cafe open. It's always meant a lot to me. Lots of memories from when I was younger.”

 

Asher starts in on another song, and again, Olivia recognizes it instantly.

 

“Ooh, this is like, Asher's favorite of mine that he does.”  Layla whispers excitedly as she grabs a quarter of a pre-cut crepe.  “Ironically, its the song that made me break up with him… because hearing him sing these words week after week… it made me realize he deserved… Well… its a long story.”

 

Layla shakes her head and waves the train of thought away, looking up at her ex-boyfriend fondly.

 

“You can really feel how much it means to him. It's one of his favorite albums.  Not that we ever listened to it together, but there was one time… I always saw it on his iTunes and I wanted to know why that particular album was so good.  So I went in my dad's music room and I put it on vinyl and just listened to it all the way through one day. And I…” Layla clears her throat as its a bit choked with emotion, and waves it off.  “Anyway, when I dragged him over to my house to do the same thing so he could enjoy it in the listening room like I had… Well, at first he looked upset with me, and I knew right then that it was personal and maybe something I should have left alone… But the music was just so good, and he just chose to lay back on the rug with me and we closed our eyes and listened to it, him singing along occasionally.  It's honestly the most emotional I’ve ever see him about anything. Music just… does that to him.”

 

Olivia stares at the girl in front of her, knowing exactly what she's talking about.  But she's never shared it with anyone but her mom before and she's not ready to think about that yet.

 

She grabs some sweet potato fries and turns her attention back to the boy up in front of the room as he continues to dive into an acoustic, darker rendition of Sharon Jones and the Dap kings.

 

_ “I can tell that you and me ain't right no more…” _

 

_ ***** _

 

The shrill cry of scrub jays on the tree outside Olivia's window startles her from her fitful sleep.

 

She blinks at the ceiling, noting it's still mostly dark in the room.  It's too warm to go back to bed, even though she's just in a sports bra and underwear.  California really likes so stretch summer weather as long as it can. A quick fumble for her phone confirms the time as just before 6:00 AM.

 

After 5 minutes, she sits up in bed, resigned to her early start.

 

She bounds down the stairs in sweats and a sports bra.  She nods at Spencer’s dad as he looks up from his tablet and morning coffee.  He smiles back at her in a proud fatherly way, seemingly impressed at her up-and-at-em behavior.  A few quick stretches later, she's throwing on her running shoes and making her way down to the front door for a voluntary Saturday morning jog.

 

Now is as good a time as any to start some healthier habits.

 

As soon as she locks the front door behind her, the gate to the driveway opens and an unfamiliar coupe drives up to the garage.

 

Asher Adams steps out of the Cadillac in shorts and his football hoodie.  He stares at Olivia as he shuts the door, expression blank, as she's become accustomed to at school.

 

The Asher from the coffee shop is gone, and Olivia isn't sure if she's allowed to bring him up to say how much she enjoyed his performance.  She assumes she's not, since he'd all but run from the cafe as soon as she and Layla had tried to say hello.

 

“Is your brother up?”

 

Asher's voice is harsh and loud in the quiet of the morning, and Olivia finds herself missing the tone of voice with which he'd spoken to her just over 12 hours before.  He sounded so soft and sincere when she'd seen him after football practice. He was someone she wanted to talk to, to know more about… and since listening to him play, the desire had only grown stronger.

 

And now she can scarcely recall why.

 

“Fine, don't answer.”  Asher rolls his eyes and walks toward her and the front door.

 

“Sorry.”  Olivia shakes the dazed look of her face and uses the key to reopen the door, leaving it cracked for him to go inside   “I didn't hear either of them getting up, but Mr. Paysinger is up and he's got GameDay on TV in the kitchen.”

 

Asher walks toward the front door, brow furrowed in thought.  He pauses beside her as she's retucking the house key in the hidden pocket of her pants.

 

She waits for him to say something in response.

 

Anything to break the awkward silence.

 

But he doesn't, so she takes a chance.

 

“Last night…”  She says slowly, quietly, like it's a secret.  “Last night you were really-”

 

“Have a nice run.”  Asher interrupts her sharply.  He turns and walks into the house without waiting for a reaction, and by the time Olivia even has one, he's shut the front door behind himself.

 

“Wow.”  Olivia stares at the door, eyes blown wide with exasperation.  She puts her headphones in and takes off running, more inspired than ever to get day started with a long jog.

 

*****

 

The sound of rowdy boys cute through Olivia's headphones and she puts her book to the side to see who has entered the back yard.

 

“Girl, why you out here in them jeans? Ain't you sweatin’?”  Coops voice calls across the yard and Olivia shoots up from her seat like a flash, practically sprinting to meet her brother’s best friend in a suffocating hug.

 

“Oh my God, Coop!”

 

“Liv!  Let me breathe, sis.”  Coop laughs back at her in that gentle rasp she loves so much.

 

Olivia pulls away from squeezing the shorter girl.

 

“It's so good to see you!  What are you doing here?” Olivia grins at her friend and then looks up to meet Asher's eyes, just over her head.

 

“Your boy Spence promised your brother they'd come by and I said I'd much rather see y'alls new digs instead.”  Coop chuckles taking a look around the extravagant backyard. The pool and lounge area alone are large enough to belong to a private spa resort.  “Living like fucking royalty out in the Hills. Boy has a killer sound system in his ride  _ and  _ killer taste.”

 

Coop nods over her shoulder at Asher and puts a hand out for a slap which the usually somber boy returns with a cocky grin.  Coop throws a thumb over her shoulder as she turns back to Olivia.

 

“White boys.”  Coop huffs out with a grin.  “You never know, they surprise you.”

 

Olivia rolls her eyes, trying not to act jealulous over how easily Coop and Asher mesh after less than half a day of knowing eachother when Olivia can't so much as look Asher's direction without him sneering and running away.

 

“Anyway.  I heard y'all have like 15 varieties of pickles in the fridge and I gotta sample some of that while trying out ya boys giant ass tv for some NBA2k19.”  

 

Coop backs away with apologetic hands and then hustled back into the house where Spencer and Jordan have already started raiding the fridge.

 

“Hey, uh…”  Asher reaches a hand out as Olivia goes to return to her reading.  She looks at the hand, hovering in the air about a foot away from her, and then up at Asher again.  “I'm sorry about being weird this morning.”

 

Olivia tears her head back, eyes going wide in confusion.  She bites back a retort about ‘as opposed to your usual normal friendly behavior?’

 

“So, I get weird about people from school seeing me perform.”  Asher drops his hand again, stuffing both in his hoodie and sniffling, almost insecure. “People don't really know I sing.  Cahuenga is Layla’s place. No one from Beverly would ever even think to go there. And I would rather no one knew that I perform.  Like, yeah I’m into music, but no one… I’m not like… a musician.”

 

“Sounded like one to me.”

 

Olivia is as shocked to hear the words fall out of her mouth as Asher looks to hear them.

 

“I, um…”  Asher swallows visibly and then nods at her.  “Thanks.”

 

Olivia doesn't respond, so he turns back to the patio where the guys are cracking open drinks and yelling about something basketball related, Coop laughing uncontrollably at their antics.

 

The morning had been weird to say the least, but this mid afternoon meeting is too much for Olivia’s brain to handle.  She needs to have more words with Asher. She's desperate to get some sort of read on this kid.

 

“The Alabama shakes song yesterday.”  Olivia yelps at his retreating form. Luckily, no one else hears, and it succeeds in the intent of getting Asher to turn back toward her.  He has a constipated look on his face, like continuing the conversation is physically painful, like acknowledging that he'd spoken to her like a normal human being is going to cause him to have a hernia.  She powers on, determined. “The one I was playing?I'm going to work on that for my class project. The transcribing project? Do you think you could help me some time? Since you're obviously more than a little familiar with soul music.”

 

Asher seems to light up for a moment, but it's gone before she can be sure it was ever there replaced by that same old stoic expression he wears during classes.

 

“Yeah fine.”  He spits out and makes a hastier departure this time, making sure there's no room to continue talking about anything with her, music or otherwise.

 

Olivia stares at his back as he walks away, hissing to herself and flopping back down on the lounge chair.

 

“Good, yeah, great talk.  Nice.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
